Carrots and hot sauce
by Zebrastreifen
Summary: ... just some little background fiction to 6x15 "Today I do". There is this tiny little moment during the phone call between Ashley, Emily and Garcia:Ashley immediately knows what the only things the bulimic/anorexic victim bought each week were - carrots and hot sauce. Not only Emily was wondering why she knew that... *TRIGGER WARNING FOR EATING DISORDERS!*


**When we speak,**

**we are afraid our words will not be heard or welcomed. **

**But when we are silent, we are still afraid.**

**So it is better to speak. **

Audre Lorde

* * *

_„__Can you go back a couple of months?" _

_"Yeah. Oh my. Back then, the spending tells an entirely different story of the unhealthy sort. Lots of drug store produces, fast food places, only a few dollars a week at the grocery store..." _

Seaver's eyes widened in recognition. Calmly, she just said: _"Carrots and hot sauce."_

Emily froze, looking at her colleague in surprise. Why did she know that? Why did Ashley Seaver know what the "food of choice" for a girl with an eating disorder was?

She was almost staring at the blonde now, trying to read something from her facial expressions, trying to find out whether she had just guessed right or - for whatever reason - known the answer, and above all: trying to find out whether she was okay...

When Ashley suddenly turned around to ask something about the girl's diet journal, Emily felt like she had just been caught. Without ostentation, she looked down, pretending she hadn't noticed anything and secretly hoping there had not even been anything to notice at all...

Em sighed, forcing herself to focus on the case again. At first, they had to safe the girl who was _definitely not_ okay. And afterwards, well... afterwards she could check on Seaver. Just to be sure...

* * *

The victim was alive, the UNSUB had been caught and they were even home again, but nevertheless, Emily was upset. Seaver had disappeared the minute they had reached the HQ, and after what had happened today - if something had even happened! - Emily's worries grew and grew.

She was just heading out of the office when her phone rang, showing her a text message from an unknown number. "See you soon". A cold shiver ran down her spine. _He_ couldn't possibly have her phone number, right? Everything was okay, right?

Probably someone had just typed in the wrong number - only a couple of weeks ago Emily had received a call from a drunk teenager at four a.m. who wanted to be picked up from a party. After trying to convince him she was not his older brother Steve (damn! She was a woman! How drunk did this guy have to be to not notice that?), she had just hung up on the boy, fortunately not receiving any other call. Apparently he had then managed to call the real Steve...

She was fine.

The question was: what about Ashley?

Before she entered her car to type Seaver's address into her navigation system, Emily glanced at her phone for one last time. _No new messages. _She sighed with relief.

* * *

When Emily finally parked her car in front of Ashley's apartment complex, it was almost two a.m., but as far as she could tell from down here, Ashley was still awake - all the lights in her apartment were switched on, and from time to time, Emily could even see the blonde through the second stories' windows.

Before she could change her mind again, Emily was already standing on Ashley's doorstep pressing the doorbell.

* * *

When Seaver opened the door, she was still fully dressed. Emily wondered whether she had just not had the time to change into something more comfortable, or whether she didn't want to go to bed anyhow - because she did look tired... tired and... like she had been crying?

Not knowing what else to say, Emily just said "Hi". Ashley looked at her in confusion. What was she doing here? They had just returned from a case, and although she knew too well that there were a lot of other monsters out there, Hotchner wouldn't have accepted to go on a case merely two hours after returning from one!?

"Do I need to get my go-bag?" she asked, wrinkling her forehead skeptically.

Emily shook her head, and the wrinkles on Ashley's forehead grew. "Am I... in trouble or something?" she asked, and after a moment, she added "... or are you?"

Em forced herself not to think of the ominous text message she had received about half an hour ago and shook her head again. "I'm fine... the question is: are you?"

"Yeah?" Seaver's answer was more of a question than a statement, but Emily knew that she shouldn't read too much into that. It was two a.m. after all! Em sighed. "I'm sorry. I know, it's late... I just wanted to ask you something, and..." Still puzzled, but probably realizing it was best to just accept this weird situation (and wait for it to come to an end), Ashley let Emily enter her apartment and guided her towards the couch. "Do you want something to drink?" They both knew that she was just trying to be polite, so Emily shook her head - again.

"Sooo...?"

Em sighed.

"I know it's terribly late, but I wanted to get this done today, you know? ... well, tonight. Whatver."

"Okay...?"

"In Molly's room, when we were speaking to Garcia on the phone,... you knew about the carrots and the hot sauce. You knew what the only thing someone with eating disorders would buy. You just _knew. _Why did you know that? Why do you know that?"

The last questions were barely a whisper. Ashley gulped, avoiding Emily's gaze. _CRAP! _She had tried so hard to hide her emotions all day, had even managed to keep up her professional tone throughout the whole phone-call - HELL! - throughout the hole day even! She had fled from the FBI headquarters to escape the memories haunting her again, but now Emily was here, sitting on her couch waiting for an answer, or - being a profiler - reading from her body language. Her legs and arms were crossed, her upper body was turned away and she was staring at the floor, to cut a long story short: she was an epitome of defensiveness!

Why on earth had she agreed to work with people who could read her face like a book?

"Ashley?" Emily hesitated, unsure how to react. It was obvious that there was something the blond tried to hide, but it wasn't less obvious that she was hurting. "Ashley?" Carefully placing a hand upon the young agent's shoulder, Emily noticed she was shaking.

"I didn't mean to attack you! I came here to... find out whether the assumptions I made this morning were justified or not." Ashley interrupted her. "What assumptions?"

Emily sighed. She knew that Ashley already knew what this was about. Nevertheless, she said:

"My assumptions are that you knew that because you either had or currently have an eating disorder." When Ashley didn't react, Emily continued: "I drew that conclusion from what I heard when you were on the phone with Garcia this morning. And now you're sitting here, searching for a way to escape from this conversation because you know you can't lie to me. Not only because I'm the big, bad, mind-reading superior, but because... you don't want to lie to me." Emily tried to look Ashley in the eyes, but she quickly turned away. Silence.

"I'm sorry. I crossed the line."

Seaver shook her head. "No... you... you're right..."

It hurt to hear how shaky her voice was.

"Ashley... I didn't come here to ... hurt you or to force you to talk about things you are not ready to discuss yet. I came here to be there for you in case you wanted someone to be there for you. You've managed to perfectly hide everything all day. You're not being weak right now. You are exhausted and scared. And that's absolutely okay. You don't have to be ashamed! No matter what you tell me tonight. I _promise_ it will stay between the two of us. If you want me to leave anyways, I will, but if you want me to stay, then just tell me." After Emily's voice - soft like velvet - had faded away, the two women sat in total silence for a couple of minutes. Then, Ashley finally looked at Emily, hear eyes full of tears, her voice raspy. "I was fine. I was really, really fine again!"

Emily nodded as a sign of acknowledgement.

"...until today"

"Uh-huh."

"When did it all start?"

Ashley hesitated.

"At eighteen. After my dad... after I had found out what my dad was. After _everyone_ had found out what my dad was!"

Emily didn't respond, knowing Ashley would continue as soon as she felt ready to.

"I had a breakdown when my dad confessed all these horrible things he had done. I just started screaming and didn't stop - for hours. The next thing I remembered was waking up in a white room, nurses worriedly staring at me. I had been taken to a psychiatric hospital, and the following months had been worse than living with a serial killer-dad for eighteen years. I mean, I hadn't known that he was ... a monster. I found out at the same time the rest of the world found out. I was just... everything was falling to pieces, you know? I have always known that my family wasn't perfect or something. Calling my dad "overprotective" would have been the understatement of the century. He was... hot-tempered and everything, but - I never ever thought he could be able to... kill someone! I didn't know it! I really didn't!"

When she started sobbing uncontrollably, Emily reached out for Ashley's hand, slightly squeezing it. Ashley immediately clung to it, and Emily didn't mind as she felt the younger woman's fingernails burying into her skin, because it seemed Ashley was calming down now. When she finally relinquished her grip, she was breathing normally again.

Although Ashley still couldn't look at Emily, she continued:

"Everyone just kept asking whether I really hadn't suspected anything.

Everyone just kept asking about my feelings for my dad. About my memories - the good ones and especially the bad ones. Everyone just wanted to find a guide. "How to tell your father is a serial killer - 10 easy steps towards your mental breakdown" She snorted.

"It just felt like they were all here for him, not for me. I wanted to be more than a... a tool. I wanted my life back. I wanted my life to be mine again. My life... and my body."

"So you refused to eat."

Ashley nodded. "I didn't have any appetite anyway, so I just... stopped.

Of course the nurses noticed, so when they started threatening me with a stomach tube,... I just went to the bathroom afterwards...No one noticed. And even if they did: No one cared. Then, after a while, they released me. I had lost about fourteen pounds, I looked like crap, and they released me. They probably thought I deserved that. I don't think they really believed me I hadn't known about what my father was doing." She gulped heavily, and Emily reached out for her hand again, but Ashley needed them to cover her face.

"You don't have to be here, you know?" She stumbled.

"I am here, Ashley. And as long as you don't tell me to, I won't leave. I care about you. I care!"

That was the moment when Ashley burst into tears, almost hyperventilating as she did.

She hadn't wanted to let her walls down. Hadn't wanted anyone to see this, but she couldn't. She just couldn't.

"I-I-I... Em-i-i-l-yyy"

"I'm here. Hush. I'm here."

With these words, Emily pulled her into a close hug, and Ashley immediately pressed her face against the older woman's chest. And she felt safe again. Safe and somehow... loved.

* * *

Neither of them knew how long they had been lying there. It didn't matter. What did matter was that Ashley was able to breathe again.

"Do you want to go to sleep? I bet you're exhausted!"

She definitely was, but Ashley shook her head. "Can I... tell you the rest? I mean, you... you wanted to know whether..." Emily nodded. "You can tell me everything you want to tell me, Ashley."

The blonde sighed.

"After I had been released from the psychiatry, I immediately changed my last name and moved away. Alone. I didn't want to live with my family - or what had been left of it - after what had happened. I couldn't look at them. I... still can't. The last time I saw my mother was the day my father got arrested. I called her, though, and told her I knew she didn't know about _it_, too. And I told her I loved her. But I haven't seen her since. I haven't seen anyone of my _old life_ since. Nobody wanted to stay in touch with..." She didn't finish her sentence - didn't have to.

"I moved as far away from North Dakota as possible. I didn't really know what it was that made me end up in Virginia. At that time, I didn't plan to go to the Academy. I didn't have any plans, actually. I just wanted to... to disappear."

Emily shot a worried glace towards her, and Ashley reassuringly shook her head. "I didn't want to... kill myself or something. I just... I don't know." She paused for a moment.

"I didn't want anyone to recognize me, so I dyed and cut my hair. But it still felt like anyone was staring at me. And they were. But I was no longer stared at because I was "this serial killer's daughter". I was stared at because I didn't even weight a hundred pounds anymore but stood at the checkout counter only buying a few carrots and a tiny pack of hot sauce.

And then, one time, a little girl pointed her finger at me and asked her mother why I was so thin.

Her mother only shrugged and turned away, but the little girl ran towards me, smiled at me and gave me the ice-cream cone she had proudly been walking around with. She... gave me the kind of deadly serious look only a child can give you and said "You must eat, silly girl. Or you will _die_!" Then she waved at me and ran back to her mommy.

Ashley smiled at the memory. It was a tiny, hurtful smile, but it was a smile.

"I knew she was watching me. I knew she was going to start crying if I didn't eat it, so I did. At that point of time, I hadn't eaten in more than a week. I don't know why I was still able to walk. I guess I just did because I was scared no one would care if I just fell down and died..." She sighed.

"But...when I came home, I felt sick. Horrible. Guilty. I... went to the bathroom and... afterwards I cried for hours. I think that was when I realized that I was throwing my life away.

I had _intended_ to change people's reactions on seeing me. I had thought if I was thin - really, really thin- people would stop treating me like I was a monster, too. That they would stop suspecting I had known more than I admitted. Before _all of that_ happened, I had always been smart and strong and... I don't know. I just wanted them to stop assuming I had been involved in anything my father did! And... it worked. I looked like death warmed up, and I could barely walk, _but_ I was no longer seen as "the daughter of this serial killer" or "the brat of this evil monster" to the world. I was "the thin girl", "the sick girl", "the poor girl that didn't eat". And I was proud of this at first, because I thought I was in control now." She hesitated. "...but lying there on the bathroom floor, crying and full of... vomit, I... realized that I was not in control at all. I think... this little girl saved my life that day..."

Again, a tiny smile played on her lips until her look turned black again.

"The next day I read about a four-year-old girl that had been abducted. She was found raped and dead only 42 hours later. RAPED!" Ashley violently shook her head in disgust before she continued. "It was... not _her_, but... it could have been! I realized that there were people suffering from much worse than what I had been through. I realized that I could save them, that I could prove I was not like my father. Not at all like him!"

She smiled a tiny, triumphant smile.

"I managed to regain control over my life. On my own. I cried and I failed and I tried again, and then, sometime, I received the acceptance letter from the FBI academy, and I swore I would stay strong - for the ones who needed help. And for the ones no one listened to."

She snorted. "...but instead, I'm sitting here, crying my heart out in front of you!"

Ashley stared at the ground again, but when Emily asked her to look at her, she obeyed.

"You are strong, Ashley. You are incredibly strong! After everything that happened to you, you have managed to survive! And even more than that! Hell! You have pulled yourself out of all that shit - alone! I am so proud of you!"

Ashley looked at Emily in disbelief.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do! Yeah, today was a shitty day for you. A triggering, shitty day. But nevertheless, you've made it through this day. And I'm sure you'll make it through tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, too, Ashley!"

Now she was the one to look at Emily.

"Th...thank you! F...for everything. You are the only one who knows any of this, I mean, who knows what happened before I joined the FBI... I mean... everyone knows the "my father is a serial killer-part", but..."

"I understand. It really means a lot to me, you know? I'm really glad I came here tonight. I mean, to be here for you. I'm sure you would've been strong enough to get through this on your own, but... you don't have to!"

"Thank you."

"As I said, I'm here for you. You may be incredibly strong, but nevertheless, in our team - our family - you are a baby" Emily smiled when Ashley pouted.

"Does our baby need another hug?" Emily asked playfully, but when the younger woman nodded, it didn't surprise her.

"Thank you so much!" Ashley mumbled into her chest.

It was only a few seconds later when Emily noticed Ashley had fallen asleep in her arms. Flattered by so much trust, she just leaned back and closed her eyes herself. It had been a really long day. There were a few questions left Emily had actually wanted to ask, but she knew that - if she wanted - she could do that at another time.

* * *

At this very moment, everything was just the way it was supposed to be,

but only a few seconds later, when Emily's cell phone beeped, everything fell to pieces again.

After she had read the text message she knew, that this tiny moment of security and comfort would be the last she'd experience any time soon. With a loud noise, Emily's phone hit the wall and the display went black. Only seconds ago, it had shown the words that had made her blood run cold:

"Where are you, Lauren Reynolds? I'm here waiting for you!"


End file.
